


Nice arse

by kate_the_reader



Series: Bob [10]
Category: RocknRolla (2008)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Prompt Fic, perving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: Bob finds another guy hot, and wonders what Dave thinks.





	Nice arse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swtalmnd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/gifts).



> swtalmnd sent me a prompt for Bob and Dave: "Hey, I'm with you, okay? Always." It could have gone super serious, but it didn't, really. Thanks darling!
> 
> This isn't the last of Bob and Dave, I have several more episodes I want to write.

On days when they’re both working, Butch has to be satisfied with quick walks in the streets around their house, a run in the local park. He doesn’t seem to mind that much. He spends the days sleeping in his bed (and on the sofa). When you get home, you can hear his claws clicking on the floor as you unlock the door and he’s there to say hello, with his big silly grin. 

On the weekends, they take him to Gunnersbury, or even further, to Hampstead Heath, or Richmond Park. It’s fun, having a reason to get out, even in the endless grey, wet weeks of not-yet Spring.

They got him an extending lead, so he can run off the path safely. Bob is nervous to let him run totally free. “What if he doesn’t come back? Or he might see a rabbit and just forget, you know?” So they practise with Butch on the long lead, calling him back. Sometimes he comes, sometimes he just grins at them over his shoulder.

The really great thing about walking with Butch is how happy he seems to make other people. Even if they don’t say anything, he makes people smile.

On the first really warm Spring Saturday, with more blue sky than clouds, they head for Hampstead Heath. It’s a good walk, uphill, and you can look out over the city from a bench at the top. Hampstead’s full of posh people, but the Heath is full of dog walkers as well. Bob knows it used to be a cruising spot, and some of the guys they see, with or without dogs, give him and Dave that look, that cruising look.

On this warm Spring day, people are walking without their heavy jackets. It’s a relief after the long months of cold. Bob is wearing just a t-shirt. The tan he got in Spain has faded long ago, of course. He wishes he could get another one — not much chance of that, driving a minicab in London. Still, the sun on his arms feels really good. They’re walking along, laughing at Butch, talking about nothing much — Dave’s current job, something mad Bob saw while he was driving yesterday, where they might go for lunch later — when a guy walks up from behind them and on up the path in front.

“He’s got a nice arse,” says Bob. He does, and he’s showing it off in tight jeans. 

The guy looks over his shoulder and winks. Dave is distracted by Butch is snuffling in some bracken; he doesn’t notice. The guy is giving Bob a very thorough look up and down. It’s nice to be noticed, but it feels a bit uncomfortable too. He smiles at the guy, not to be rude, and turns to where Butch is standing in the bracken defying Dave, his crazy ears flopped over. “Come here, you silly dog,” he calls, reaching for Dave’s free hand. It’s not the first time he’s been checked out, so why does it feel so wrong this time?

A cloud goes over the sun then, and the Heath isn’t as appealing anymore. 

“Let’s go home,” says Bob. 

“Don’t you want to go and have lunch first? The sun’s bound to come out again.”

Bob feels a kind of itchy tension and he’d sort of rather go home, but they’ve both been inside too much lately and Dave loves having lunch in a pub garden, drinking a fancy beer.

When they’re sitting in the garden of a fancy Hampstead pub, with Butch lying under the table, his head on Bob’s foot, Dave looks over and says: “What’s the matter, love?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

He doesn’t know why he even tries to hide stuff from Dave. “Well, not nothing, but … not here, okay?”

“Okay,” says Dave, “you can tell me later.”

“Yeah, at home.”

A young waitress comes to take their order then. Butch sticks his head out from under the table, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Can I say hello?” she asks.

“Butch, that okay?” says Dave, keeping his hand on the dog’s collar. The girl stretches out her hand for him to sniff. He glances up at Dave and pushes his nose into her hand.

“Oh!” she says, laughing, “Are you thirsty, Butch? Can I bring you a drink as well?”

She brings a bowl of water along with their beers and Butch drinks it noisily. 

The sun has come back out, and it’s nice here. They linger and have coffee after lunch. Bob doesn’t feel tensed up anymore when they get home. There’s football on the telly, and Dave brings his receipt book out to balance. They’re not that interested in the match, so they turn the sound down soft. Butch climbs up on the sofa and curls up in a ball. Bob drowses.

When he closes his receipt book, Dave reaches for Bob’s hand. “What was wrong, before?”

Bob feels a bit stupid, now. “That guy, on the Heath.”

“Nice arse?”

“Yes, him. You know it didn’t mean anything? Me noticing? He really looked me up and down, too.”

“Yes, I saw,” says Dave, smiling.

“You didn’t mind? I don’t go around checking guys out.”

“Mind? Of course not, why would I mind?”

“Well …” says Bob, feeling really foolish. “I’m with you. I’m not … looking around or anything. I’m with you.”

“Oh love,” says Dave, pulling him closer, “I know.”

***

The next time they go to the Heath, a guy jogs past wearing leggings, like girls wear.

“Nice arse,” says Dave, but he slips his hand in Bob’s back pocket and gives him a grope. “I prefer this one though.”

Bob laughs, and does the same to Dave. “Me too,” he says.


End file.
